There’s no way I can open this without a “Yee-haw,” is there?
The Center is the realization of cofounder Gene Autry’s dream of “a museum which would exhibit and interpret the heritage of the West and show how it influenced America and the world.” Thus, we’re greeted in the courtyard by this friendly-looking statue of the man himself with his horse Champion, staring westwards into every sunset...or maybe just the L.A. Zoo, which is directly across the street. As if Autry’s like, “Howdy, Reggie!”
There’s something of a two-prong approach toward displaying the collection here—which encompasses everything from painting, sculptures, and textiles to firearms, tools, and vehicles—that more or less divides it between two floors. The lower level focuses on the historical reality of the West, which is where you’ll find artifacts like this assortment of Tlingit and Haida items from the Pacific Northwest.
And then the upper level is mostly dedicated to artistic interpretations of the West, with a range of works from the very traditional and sometimes mythic, such as Thomas Moran’s Mountain of the Holy Cross...
...to more modernist takes, like the cubist Indian Dancers With Masks by 20th-century painter Jan Matulka, who was born in what is now the Czech Republic but heavily inspired by the American West.
But this being L.A. and all—and especially because it’s the Autry Center—the art form that’s the big draw is film. At one point, Westerns were practically the cornerstone of Hollywood, partly due to easy access to nearby deserts for location shooting but also because there’s a universal appeal to their themes—the clash of cultures, the struggles of life on the edge of civilization, or just simple morality tales—that inspired directors worldwide from Leone to Kurosawa, who then influenced people like Lucas and Tarantino in turn.
Starting with the 1903 silent short The Great Train Robbery—which broke ground with its shooting and editing techniques—Westerns have waxed and waned in popularity more than once, but the Autry’s collection of movie memorabilia spans the ups and downs, especially the midcentury classics featuring the likes of Clint Eastwood and some guy named Marion Morrison, but also more recent entries like Brokeback Mountain—recognize those shirts in the middle?
There’s also some acknowledgment of films that may not feature horses and shootouts in pioneer times but still invoke the same spirit, geography, and/or tropes of Westerns—outlaws on the run, for example, as with Thelma & Louise.
There’s even a bit of a nod to to the ones that tried to kill off the genre entirely. Nice hat, Depp.
And since Autry was the archetypal Singing Cowboy, there’s a section devoted to those performers—Roy Rogers, Dale Evans, Center cofounder Monte Hale, Herb Jeffries (who passed away earlier this year), and others—but Autry gets a showcase of his own that highlights what a Renaissance man he was. Besides being an icon of screen (nearly a hundred movies) and country music (over a hundred million records sold, including the very first gold certification), he was an Army flight officer during World War II, a savvy businessman who owned several radio/TV stations and the Los Angeles/California/Anaheim Angels, VP of the American League, and the only person to have Walk of Fame stars in all five categories (film, TV, radio, music, and theater).
Even Christmas wouldn’t be quite the same without him—he made “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” a hit and recorded the first versions of “Frosty the Snowman” and “Here Comes Santa Claus,” the latter of which he cowrote. Though I’ll admit my favorite song of his is for another holiday altogether.
Somebody I wasn’t expecting to see included here, however? Michael Jackson, represented by two Western costumes he wore at very different stages of his career. The red one is from a mid-’90s tour, the blue one is from the Jacksons’ variety show some twenty years earlier, worn for a medley of “The Cisco Kid” and “I Shot the Sheriff” that’s conveniently looping on a small side monitor.
I...think those waitress outfits on the backup dancers might be somewhat more 1970s than 1870s.
Television also gets some attention, particularly the midcentury boom years that produced long-running staples like The Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, and Bonanza—1959 in particular saw over two dozen shoot-’em-ups on primetime. The “Rural Purge” of the early ’70s resulted in a shift toward more contemporary, urban-themed programming, but as with film, Westerns never really went away on TV, from Kung Fu to Lonesome Dove to Deadwood, not to mention Firefly, which put a Western spin on space, the final frontier.
Still, I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a kid’s room that looked like this in the last fifty years or so. Apparently there was some insane merchandising going on in the ’50s and early ’60s.
One more feature of the upper level before we break for lunch: a greenscreen booth where you can drop yourself into a filmstrip. Roll the stock footage!
Uh-oh, they think I’m a rustler! Ride, Glue Factory, ride!
Now for some food. Seems kind of apt that they have a buffalo burger at the on-site cafe. Mmm, tastes like Manifest Destiny!
Next, we head downstairs, where all the real history is. Every schoolkid knows the westward expansion of the United States began back in the 18th century, but things really kicked into gear in the 19th, due to catalysts like the California Gold Rush. The Autry even has sluices out back where visitors can learn how to pan for gold, but since wet fur’s a pain, let’s see if I have any better luck inside.
Shoot, it’s a hologram. I am forever thwarted by holograms.
Interested in the gunslinging aspect of things? Because that’s certainly not overlooked—there’s an entire gallery showcasing the Colt revolver, “the gun that won the West” by being the first revolving firearm that could fire more than one shot without reloading. This display alone has guns owned by a number of Western stars (Autry, Hale, Clayton Moore, Tom Mix, Slim Pickens) and several presidential presentation prototypes, from JFK to Reagan. No mention of Sam and Dean Winchester, but some wars remain secret, I suppose.
Also not glossed over: the lawbreakers. One of the museum’s prime photo-ops is this jail door situated in front of an enlarged photo of the Dalton Gang after their fatal shootout. Should’ve tried robbing the bank in Mayberry instead of Coffeyville, boys!
For that matter, what’s the Old West without a saloon? The Autry has a recreation complete with this lovely mahogany and maple backbar, an Edison multiphone, period liquor advertisements, gambling tables, and my favorite...
...devices for the morally flexible player! A holder for concealing your extra cards, and Deringers and stilettos for when somebody calls you out as the dirty lying cheat you are.
But look beyond the shootin’, boozin’, and gamblin’, and there was still an infrastructure being laid down for our growing country, which this 1850s mail coach would’ve been a part of. It’s a beautiful restoration—who’d know that it was badly fire-damaged at one time?
There’s also a plethora of horse equipment here, from simple utilitarian saddles—and hey, a 1/3-scale sample model that’s rabbit-size!—to more elaborate ones for rodeos, along with other farming/ranching implements.
These are available in the gift shop, right? What? Why not? Liability? I thought this was the Wild West!
Funny thing: Passing by the chuckwagon diorama, I realize it’s really not all that different from a modern food truck. Less Asian fusion, maybe, but then again, with all the Chinese laborers that were around back then, maybe not.
All right, guys, hand over the chili. Extra con carne, light on the beans, y’hear?
Speaking of the laborers, that returns us to the mission statement of the Center: The Autry brings together the stories of all peoples of the American West, connecting the past with the present to inspire our shared future. Which is why space is given to the history of groups other than pioneers from the American East—and not only those of Native Americans or the well-established Mexicano population, but those of African-Americans, Asian immigrants, even Canadians! And let’s not forget the Mormon settlers, without whom there would basically be a blank space on the map between Nevada and Colorado.
This is where some of the lesser-known figures of the era get their due, people like Henry O. Flipper, the first black cadet to graduate from West Point and first non-white officer to command Buffalo Solidiers, and Janet Sherlock Smith, an LDS mother of eight who also became a hotelier and postmistress because the hardscrabble nature of frontier life sometimes meant taking on atypical roles when the need arose. You know these two had some stories.
Not represented in the tapestry, however? Lagomorph-Americans. Which leads me to believe that the main contribution of rabbits to Western history, at least as it’s written, was...as stew.
But I have to believe that someday, my people will stand among all others.
In any case, it’s time to wrap up here—this place closes early, at 4 on weekdays and 5 on weekends—so Rob and I better mosey on. But first: one last photo-op. Looks like there’s a new sheriff in town. That “shared future” came faster than you expected, didn’t it?
So, happy trails! Though I may never get over my disappointment over learning that Hopalong Cassidy was not, in fact, a rabbit.
